


Movies and Popcorn

by flaming_muse



Series: Conjunctions [6]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-22
Updated: 2004-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Creature double feature night in Spike's crypt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movies and Popcorn

**Author's Note:**

> Story number 4.5 in the "Conjunctions" series, between "Newspapers and Negotiation" and "Subterfuge and Experimentation." It is, however, pseudo-canonical in terms of the series, in that it was written last and doesn't have to be there, so I am including it at the end.
> 
> Originally posted in my LJ on April 22, 2004.

_Blood? Check. Burba weed? Check. Whiskey? Check._

Spike carried the bottles over to his chair and set them on the table beside it. He turned on the television and flipped through the channels until he heard a piercing scream emanate from the speakers.

 _Monster movie? Check._

He sat down, sprinkled some burba weed into his blood, and settled back in his chair.

The woman on the screen screamed again, and Spike smiled in anticipation of her impending demise. He took a sip of his blood and watched the vampire grab the woman from behind and sink his fangs into her throat.

 _Now all I need is some popcorn, and this would be perfect_ , Spike thought. _And maybe a human of my own to make scream._

There was a muffled knock on the door to his crypt, and it swung open as he turned around.

"Hey, Spike," Xander said. He was clutching two large brown paper bags in one hand and had a six-pack of soda in the other. Something bulky and navy blue was tucked under his arm.

 _That wasn't the kind of screaming I had in mind, but it'll do in a pinch._

Xander pushed the door closed with his foot and stumbled down the stairs. He set the soda down by Spike's chair and handed him one of the paper bags.

"What's this?" Spike asked, holding it gingerly and noticing what looked like grease stains on the bottom.

"Popcorn."

 _Popcorn!_ thought Spike.

"Nasty stuff. Gets caught in my fangs," he said, opening up the bag and surreptitiously inhaling the delicious buttery smell. "Is this your new job? Popcorn delivery boy?"

"It's creature double feature night, and I thought where better to watch it than in a crypt with our sort of friendly neighborhood vampire? You can complain about the inaccuracies, and I can show you the scars I've gotten from whatever monster is on the screen." Xander set down the other bag and pulled off his jacket. "I figured if I brought popcorn you wouldn't mind."

 _Stupid git. Not only does he show up here unannounced and expects me to be happy to see him, but he walks through the cemetery after dark to do it. And could he have gotten a hand anywhere near a weapon with his arms full like that?_

"Your cable out again?"

"Nope. Just thought it would be more fun to watch together."

Spike blinked at him, still surprised on some basic level that Xander was so easy with whatever was going on with them. _He_ wasn't nearly so nonchalant about having a sexual relationship with the boy; if nothing else, the fact that he would certainly get staked by the Slayer when she found out was enough to make his blood run cold. Colder.

But the Slayer could come in any day and stake him for no reason but a chipped nail, so why fight the boy if he wanted to be around? It's not like he wasn't amusing, and it turned out he was also a bloody good kisser.

"Only got the one chair," Spike said. "You'll have to sit on the floor."

"No problem. That's why I brought my sleeping bag," Xander said, unfurling the navy blue bundle and laying it out by Spike's feet.

Spike watched with bemusement as the young man made himself at home. He toed off his sneakers and then sank cross-legged to the bag.

"Ow," he said and squirmed to pull a stake out of his back pocket. He placed it on top of his coat.

"Afraid I'll go for your neck?" Spike asked. He tasted a kernel of popcorn tentatively, curious as to how good popcorn from a grocery bag could actually be. It was salty and buttery, just the way he liked it. He had another.

"Like you haven't been there before," Xander said. He opened a can of soda and slurped the foam as it bubbled out. "It seems to be a favorite spot of yours."

"See I left a mark." Spike reached down to trace over the fading hickey at the junction of Xander's neck and shoulder. The boy shivered at his touch but didn't pull away.

"And don't think I haven't been getting weird looks wearing turtlenecks in this weather," Xander said. "Oh, hey, the movie's back on." He shuffled sideways slightly to lean against the arm of Spike's chair and turned his attention to the television.

Spike scooped out a handful of popcorn and watched the vampire stalk his next victim. She was about to get her throat torn out when -

"Hey, how come you never wear a cape?" Xander asked.

"Shh. This is the best part." She screamed, and there wasn't nearly enough blood, but Spike felt a shiver run up his spine at the memory of a thousand similar moments in his life. Spike sank back in his chair and grinned. "Oh, yeah..."

"Miss the thrill of the chase, huh?"

"Not so much the chase as the actual catching." Spike took a sip of cold pig's blood and tried to pretend that it was fresh out of a human. His imagination wasn't quite that good.

"Yeah, I can see that. I mean, the chase part must be pretty tiring for an old guy like yourself. There's all that wheezing and hacking up phlegm."

"I don't breathe. And I don't have phlegm."

"Okay, I made up the phlegm, but you breathe all the time," Xander said, and Spike glanced over at the top of his head. "Maybe you don't need to, but you do. You smoke, for one, and you talk. You also snort, cough, sneeze, and hiccup. Plus, you snore. And I have come to learn recently that you pant and gasp quite a bit during certain activities."

Xander didn't turn away from the television, but Spike could see the embarrassed flush rising up his neck and turning his ears bright red.

Spike kept himself from reaching out to touch that hot skin and dipped into the bag of popcorn again.

"I do not snore."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You really do."

"I bloody well don't!" Spike snapped, and he saw Xander flinch.

"Okay, okay. Not that you're awake to hear yourself snore when you're asleep, but you win. You don't snore, you don't breathe, and you don't have phlegm."

"Just watch the movie," Spike said. He set down the popcorn and picked up the bottle of whiskey. His fingers slid across the smooth glass, leaving smears of grease behind, and he swore as he tried to keep hold of the bottle.

Xander turned his head.

"Didn't you think to bring napkins? The popcorn's making a bloody mess."

"I knew I forgot something. Sorry."

An accomplished flirt would have given Spike his shirt to wipe his hands or at least offered to lick his fingers clean. Xander just looked apologetic and vaguely embarrassed.

A proper vampire would have demanded the shirt or the licking, and maybe he would have used the mortal's blood to bathe his hands if he was annoyed enough.

"Don't worry about it," Spike grumbled. He used his own t-shirt to get the worst of the grease off of his fingers and then took a long swig of whiskey straight out of the bottle.

 _I'm getting so bloody soft_ , he thought.

There was another scream from the television, and this time Xander waited until the victim had crumpled on the ground before he spoke.

"You know, if she had twisted just a little bit she wouldn't have gotten bitten in a place that keeps her from wearing spaghetti straps. Buffy says they're really in this year."

"The bird is dead. Fashion is the least of her concerns."

"But you never know when you're getting bitten whether you'll die or not. I mean, I've been nearly killed countless times, and I've gotten really good at minimizing scars," Xander said, taking another sip of soda.

Spike wondered suddenly what Xander would have been like if he had grown up far from the Hellmouth. He would probably still be somewhat awkward and prone to nervous joking, but that tinge of hysteria that sometimes colored his laughter at the moments of greatest crisis might not have developed. If he hadn't lost so many friends, hadn't seen so many horrors, would he have become so willing to face danger? Would he still have learned to depend on his instincts (as horribly wrong as they could be)? Would that strength inside of him have developed at such a young age? Without the underlying tension and frustration that oozed out of his every pore, would he continue to taste of -

"M&Ms™?" Xander asked, fumbling in the pockets of his coat. He pulled out a plastic grocery bag and displayed the packet of candy inside. "They're peanut."

"Yeah, all right."

Xander ripped open the top.

"Hold out your hands."

"Don't want 'em all mixed up. Can't stand the blue ones."

"Pick 'em out, then."

" _You_ pick 'em out. You brought 'em."

Xander rolled his eyes and flattened the plastic bag on his sleeping bag. Then he poured out the candy and began to sort through them.

"Take what you want," Xander said, popping a handful in his mouth. "The blue ones are nowhere near the rest now. Happy?"

"Not remotely," Spike said. He glanced up to see the hero of the movie track the vampire through the run-down mansion, and he sighed. The best parts of the film were over. No more blood and mayhem. Now the hero swaggered, the heroine quailed, and Xander crunched. The smell of sugar and chocolate wafted up to Spike's nostrils.

"Don't eat all the green ones," he said and slid down to join Xander on the sleeping bag. He picked through the candy between them and took a handful of greens.

"Now who's being greedy?" Xander asked, grinning.

"You said to take what I want."

"I didn't expect you to take _everything_."

"You should know me better than that, pet," Spike said, and Xander's eyes flashed to his.

"Come here," Spike murmured and leaned forward to touch his lips to Xander's. The boy's eyelids drifted shut as they kissed, and Spike's senses filled with the taste of salt and sweet and Xander. Their mouths moved languidly against each other, no other parts of their bodies touching.

When Spike began to pull away, though, Xander reached out and cupped the back of his neck, drawing him forward and deepening the kiss. They raised up onto their knees and pressed chest-to-chest over the pile of candy. Spike drew the human's warmth into his skin as they moved into each other.

A crunch beneath his knee caught Spike's attention, and he broke away to look down at the pile of candy he was kneeling on.

"I've got it," Xander said, scooping up the candy onto the plastic bag and moving it out of the way. When he was done he turned back to Spike, seeking out his lips once more.

The kiss intensified, and Spike began to consider his options. He could feel the cold stone of the crypt floor soaking through the thin sleeping bag and the denim of his jeans, and if he was aware of it then it must be enough to bother Xander. So tipping him backwards and pinning him to the ground was probably not the best idea. He could always lie on _his_ back and pull Xander on top of him, but the boy would still feel the cold where he touched the ground, which would distract him from more pleasant sensations.

Spike slid his hand into Xander's hair and plunged his tongue deeper into his delicious mouth, but his contemplation of possibilities with them in the chair or on one of the sarcophagi was brought up short when a scream from the television made Xander jump and pull back slightly.

"Sorry," Xander said sheepishly, glancing at the television before leaning forward again, but before the kiss could resume he yawned. "Sorry," he repeated.

It was then that Spike noticed the dark circles under Xander's eyes and the slight slump of fatigue in his shoulders.

"You're tired." It was almost an accusation.

"Yeah," Xander said, ducking his head slightly. "We were out late patrolling with Buffy last night, and I had to work two shifts today."

By all rights, Spike shouldn't have cared. It wasn't like the boy was going to be less enthusiastic a lover once Spike's hands were on his skin, and even if he were Spike would still end up happy. Yet he found himself petting Xander's hair when their mouths met again instead of tugging on it the way he had recently learned they both liked best. The movements of his hands became soothing instead of arousing. He was disturbed by what he was doing, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from gentling the kiss.

"What's wrong?" Xander asked when Spike pulled back entirely.

"There's another movie on," Spike said. "Double feature, remember?"

Xander glanced at the television and then back at Spike.

"Okay," he said, looking confused.

Spike pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand to Xander. The boy stared at it for a moment and let himself be helped up, but he resisted slightly as Spike settled back in his chair and pulled him into his lap.

"What are you doing?" Xander asked. He shifted awkwardly on Spike's legs but didn't get up.

"Getting comfortable. Come here." Spike tugged Xander back against his chest and encouraged him to fold up a bit so that he fit more easily in the chair. It wasn't the most natural of positions, but with a bit of squirming Xander slung his legs over the arm of the chair and got his head settled against Spike's shoulder.

"All right?" Spike asked, running his hand down the boy's arm.

Xander nodded, and by the second commercial break his breathing had slowed to the steady rhythm of sleep. Spike kept petting him, though, as the movie continued; he couldn't seem to stop the slow movements of his hands.

 _So he's sleeping without me wearing him out first, and I didn't get a chance to make him scream. So what?_ Spike thought rather defensively. _He brought popcorn, there's screaming in the movie, and he makes a bloody good electric blanket. Better to let him catch up on his rest so I can tire him out extra hard tomorrow._

Spike wasn't sure whom he was trying to convince, but there was no voice of dissent as he stroked his fingers gently though Xander's hair and was warmed by more than the boy's body heat.


End file.
